


I think I'm falling (I'm falling for you)

by weestarmeggie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Wedding, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29417196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weestarmeggie/pseuds/weestarmeggie
Summary: At Harry And Pansy's wedding, Hermione realsies she might not be alone in her feelings for a certain blond.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 168
Collections: Dramione Valentine Exchange





	I think I'm falling (I'm falling for you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crochetaway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crochetaway/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DramioneValentineExchange](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DramioneValentineExchange) collection. 



> Happy Valentines Day. I hope you enjoy this drabble and have a wonderful day and year. Thank you for all the wonderful fic you write and contribute to fandom <3 Thank you to [NuclearNik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuclearNik/pseuds/NuclearNik) for the alpha/beta (any remaining mistakes remain my own) and to Paris Hilton for her exceptioniall support <3 Enjoy!

Hermione loves James. She does. He’s got the cutest nose, and his hair flops to one side and sticks up in every direction just like Harry’s is prone to do. He has perfected the act of looking innocent with his wide eyed doe act which she has witnessed Pansy flutter in Harry’s direction at least twice today alone. 

Hermione is  _ not  _ a fan of James’ fondness for her hair, which he has currently managed to grab a handful of and wrap around his tiny fist. She’s struggling to get him to let go when Pansy’s best man sweeps up behind them and easily untangles it for her.

Hermione blinks. Once. Twice. Then she swallows and turns on her heel to face her saviour; her  _ friend. _

“Thanks, Draco.”

She looks up at him from beneath her lashes and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, doing everything she can to look alluring only to find he’s not even looking at her. 

No. 

He’s too busy blowing raspberries against a giggling James’ cheek. Hermione sighs and does her best not to pout; she can’t even be mad at James because he  _ is _ ridiculously cute.

“You’re really good with him,” she says instead, and Draco flicks his eyes down to meet hers and grins. The sight of his lips stretched and teeth gleaming as he smiles down at her has Hermione grinning right back.

“Thanks,” he says, and Hermione can only nod. She tucks a curl behind her ear then blushes; she's acting like an idiot. For a  _ boy _ .

They stand there, Harry and Pansy’s wedding reception going on all around them, laughing, babbling, and smiling at James without a care in the world, and when James reaches out and grabs a mini quiche from a passing tray and proceeds to cover himself in food, Hermione thinks nothing of it when she steps forward, snags Draco’s monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket and begins to wipe James down.

“Oh my Merlin,” someone proclaims; Hermione looks up to see one of Pansy’s aunts beaming at the three of them. “Don’t you all look adorable? Goodness, young Master Malfoy—” 

“I’m twenty-seven,” Draco says beneath his breath.

“—your mother must be so proud of you. A beautiful young lady,” the woman says, stepping forward and pinches at James’ cheek, “and a handsome son to call your own.” Hermione’s mouth drops open, and she stares, incredulous, as the woman grasps Draco by the jaw and plants a wet kiss on each of his cheeks before she turns and waddles off back into the crowd.

“Can you believe she thought James was our son?” Draco asks, scoffing. “No child of ours would have black hair.”

“Can you believe she thought we were together?” Hermione says at the same time, though as soon as she realises just what Draco has said she turns to look up at him. His cheeks are stained pink though his eyes are firmly on James. “Hold on. Did you just say you’ve thought about the hair  _ our _ child would have?”

“No.”

Hermione blinks. 

“Yes.”

His eyes flick to hers. “No,” he says obstinately.

Hermione’s tongue flicks out over her lips as she folds her arms across her chest and stares up at him, lifting her chin. “What did you say then?”

“I said—” He pauses and takes James from Hermione, passing him to Daphne Nott-Longbottom—seven months pregnant herself and desperate to get any and all practise before her own bundles of joy arrive—before facing Hermione once more. “I said that any child of ours would not have black hair. Not that I’ve thought about what our children would specifically look like.”

The next question escapes Hermione without her permission. 

“But you have thought about it?” 

Draco’s eyes snap to meet hers, and Hermione can’t help but  _ push _ . “You’ve thought about how curly their hair would be but that it would be all Malfoy blond. Your colouring and my freckles,” she says. “My determination—”

“Stubbornness,” Draco interrupts.

“—and your sly—”

“Cunning,” Draco says, and he’s staring at her now like he’s never seen her before, and her heart will not  _ stop _ . Her breath hitches when he leans forward and cups her jaw between two fingers, thumb catching on her bottom lip. 

“Friends sometimes have a kid together right, Granger?” Hermione’s heart drops into her stomach. “We’re friends.”

Hermione’s not sure whether to slap or thank the bride for choosing that exact moment to sweep Draco away from her, but she does know one thing.

She’s not the only one with feelings. 

Not anymore.


End file.
